way to go, tiger | Lorenzo Berkshire

࣪𖤐 Y7 | 4 . Grimmauld Place

RIGHT WHERE YOU
LEFT ME — TAYLOR SWIFT
'They expected me to find somewhere, some perspective, but I sat and stared right where you left me.'

Stepping into Grimmauld Place doesn't fail to wind Cassie completely. Especially when the ghost of Albus Dumbledore comes pelting towards them. It soon disappears, fading back into the dust-infested air.

Cassie doesn't pay attention to what the others are saying. She lets them wander the place and sort out the protective enchantments. Her legs involuntarily take her upstairs. She freezes outside the door that reads Sirius O. Black. This very doorstep was where Cassie came rushing her first Christmas without Cedric. Where Sirius would make her stand when showing off his new fur coat. Where Remus would rest, watching Sirius give her a grand tour of the house.

For such a horrible household, Cassie has some of her best memories here.

She pushes open the door and swipes the dust off the doorknob.

Their bed is still unmade.

Nobody has been in here since he died.

Cassie feels her throat closing up so she tries to massage it with her hand. She takes a deep breath and walks further into the room. She doesn't want to make the bed. It's as if it'll take away some of the last memories of her father.

She wanders to the wardrobe where all of Sirius' clothes lie. With a long, shaky breath, Cassie takes one of his leather jackets and tucks it under her arm. In the pocket of said jacket, is a moving photograph of Remus and Cassie. They're mid-game of chess, laughing with their heads back. Cassie remembers that evening.

She closes her eyes and slowly lowers herself to the floor. She leans against the bed-frame and puts the back of her hand against her mouth as the tears come. Once they start, they don't stop.

She thinks of every memory they made in this house. Every laugh, every smile. Every argument, every tear, every hug.

Everything is so bittersweet it hurts.

Cassie takes her necklace off and opens it to the photo of her and her dads. She lifts it to her chest and curls in on herself, letting the grief swallow her whole. This is the first time she's let herself cry like this in a while.

It's the kind of sobbing that makes you heave for air, and your eyes sting from the sheer amount of tears.

There's a drawing pinned to the wall. Elizabeth did it in the summer of fourth year. It's a portrait of Cassie and Padfoot. Padfoot is sat politely beside her, her arm around him and pressing a kiss to the side of his head. It's a beautiful drawing, and Cassie hates it.

She hates it for how much it pains her fluttering lungs. For how violently sick it makes her feel. For how angry it makes her for not having enough time with him.

One day, Cassie is going to kill Bellatrix Lestrange, and she's going to make her suffer every second. She's not letting her go easily, that's for sure. She loves the idea of ripping her limbs apart individually as the wolf— but then again, she wouldn't get the same buzz from it as a wolf.

But imagine the satisfaction when she turns back and sees the masterpiece she'd done.

Cassie doesn't often get murderous thoughts like these, but when she does, it's brutal.

Oh, she can't wait to kill her.

"Cassie?"

Enzo's voice brings Cassie back to reality. She wipes her eyes and sniffles, looking up at him with the most convincing smile she can find.